


Run For A Reason

by officerstilinskihale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And really, Basically there's cute stuff happening, Charity Run, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski is perf in this one, i'm aware, i'm not doing myself any favors with these tags, it's pretty hilarious, just give it a chance, okay yeah, please?, trust me - Freeform, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officerstilinskihale/pseuds/officerstilinskihale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p class="MsoNormal">“Derek,” the Sheriff’s voice was amused now. “Getting well-acquainted with my son, were you?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">“Yes, sir,” Derek said, before his calm mask slipped and his eyes widened in panic as he realized what he had just admitted to. “I mean, no, sir.” The Sheriff raised an eyebrow and Derek looked to Stiles helplessly.</p><p class="MsoNormal">“He was helping me recover from the run!” Stiles blurted out, wringing his hands out and the Sheriff crossed his arms over his chest, the beginnings of a smile starting to appear on his face.</p><p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, so he was giving you CPR, is that what that was?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">Derek choked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run For A Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scruffy_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruffy_Wolf/gifts).



> oh look i'm back! i was gone last week but i'm back! I apologize to Ellen, because I'm a twat, but I hope this makes up for it :)
> 
> Unbeta'd, also dedicated to the absolutely perfect [captainscruffywolf](http://captainscruffywolf.tumblr.com/) because it was her prompt and she is an angel. And i kind of just love her like a lot.
> 
> Everything is owned by Jeff Davis.

Stiles knew that if it wasn't for the fact that Derek's ass looked absolutely  _glorious_  in those stupid running shorts of his, he would've given up the whole marathon idea from their first training session, good cause or not.

He could also say for certain that it definitely _really_ started the day he was out running after that leprechaun that had, quite literally, appeared next to a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Okay, so that part was bullshit but did it really matter? The point was, he was chasing after a rude leprechaun when Derek had appeared out of nowhere, effortlessly loping alongside him and said,

"Do you even run?"

Offended, Stiles had (very gracefully) tripped over a tree root, caught himself before faceplanting onto the ground and blurted,

"Yes, I'm doing that Run for Cancer thing in a few months actually, so I don't know what you're talking about."

And, thinking about it now, he should've backed off and admitted he had been lying when Derek raised an eyebrow and replied with an easy,

"Sure you are. I guess that means we can train together then."

But, no, his pride was a vengeful bastard and was precisely the reason why he was lying starfished out on the ground in the Preserve, too weak to even lift his head and stare at Derek's beautiful,  _beautiful_  derrière as it jogged further and further away from him and into the land of sculpted abs, chiseled biceps and perfect bodies.

It was entirely possible Stiles was being a little overdramatic and quite a lot delusional, because in reality, Derek had stopped and was now leaning over him, his eyebrows crinkled into an expression Stiles assumed was either one of concern or exasperation. He was placing bets on that second guess.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked and Stiles squinted up at him incredulously.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" It wasn't a shriek, but Stiles was man enough to admit that his voice had gone several octaves higher and he currently sounded like someone had aimed a well-placed kick to his genitals.

"It looks like you collapsed after running 12k," Derek said dryly and Stiles' mouth snapped shut. "I would've thought you had more stamina in you. I'm actually a bit disappointed."

Stiles' eyes widened, his jaw dropping as Derek smirked, obviously pleased with himself.

"Oh ha ha," Stiles muttered, pulling himself up into a sitting position to try and shift the focus away from where his whole face had flushed a deep red because talking about stamina with Derek ‘I’m-a-werewolf-and-superior-in-every-way’ Hale? No. Just, no. "I'm a little out of practice. Since I quit lacrosse and haven’t been running for my life so much anymore, I kind of haven’t been doing much save for sitting in front of the computer and eating."

"I can see that," Derek said, rolling his eyes and putting his hand out to help Stiles up. "C'mon, we'll finish 15ks today and then work up from there."

"I don't think I'm physically able to do that," Stiles admitted, his muscles still twinging in agony, getting up on shaky legs.

Derek's hand felt warm in his and Stiles could feel himself start to redden again, so he dropped his hand like it had caught fire and coughed awkwardly.

"You'll be okay," Derek told him, a weird expression on his face and Stiles managed a weak smile.

It had taken a while for everything to calm down again after the Alpha pack and while the loss of Erica, Boyd, Cora and Peter was still fresh in their minds, the pack was stronger now, Danny being a huge part in bringing them together.

In less than a year, Beacon Hills stopped being supernatural catnip and nowadays they only got the occasional troll stumbling across town and inflicting minor damage.

It was around about as long as Stiles had realized he had feelings for their resident sour alpha, after kissing Lydia made him think he was kissing someone like a sister, or even worse, Scott. Eugh.

“Stiles?” Derek's concerned voice cut through the haze in his head and he jolted, eyes snapping to where Derek was holding out his water bottle.

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks,” he said, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swig. The water felt like fucking heaven and he sighed in relief, his eyes slipping shut as he relished the smooth slide of the cool liquid down his throat. When he opened his eyes again to hand Derek the bottle, he flushed when he found Derek staring at him, his lips quirked in an amused expression.

“Whatever you’re going to say, shove it back to wherever your chest hair disappears to when you go all wolfy,” he mumbled, watching as Derek took a gulp of the water and biting back a grin when Derek choked on a laugh, water spluttering out of his nose and his mouth. “Sorry,” he laughed, unable to resist, and Derek shook his head, still smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling in the afternoon light. Oh god, Stiles really needed to get a grip on his internal monologue, it was starting to sound like a twelve year-old after a Justin Bieber concert.

“I was literally just going to say,” Derek began after he caught his breath, wiping his face ineffectually with his sweat-soaked wifebeater, which, _Jesus_ _Christ, those abs_. The first time Stiles saw what the exercise did to the innocuous piece of clothing; he nearly had a religious experience. Stiles blinked up at Derek and tried to rearrange his face to look like he hadn’t just been thinking about what Derek would look like if he were just as sweaty and decidedly more naked under Stiles. “You’d go a lot further if you remembered to bring water with you. Has no one ever taught you the importance of hydration?”

“Yeah, yeah, I need my fluids,” Stiles rolled his eyes, shaking his joints out and stretching a little. “I feel a bit better, I think I might make it to 15k today, race you?”

He took off without waiting for an answer, cackling.

+++

“He’s snoring pretty violently,” Scott looked torn between being worried and wanting to laugh and Derek shrugged, eyeing the way Stiles’ face was pressed into his pillow, his snores loud and not even slightly muffled. Stiles had eventually finished the 15k, complaining incessantly as he got past the tree line. If it hadn’t been for Derek already waiting, leaning casually against a tree, ready to take him out for some (healthy) food and a few liters of water, Stiles would’ve been in a serious pickle. “Will he be okay?”

“Yeah, he’s just exhausted. Make sure he gets up and eats something for breakfast tomorrow, will you?” Derek asked, taking one last look at Stiles before he tilted his head to acknowledge Scott’s nod and walked out.

Scott peered out the window to make sure Derek was out of earshot before he let out a sigh and flopped down next to Stiles, uncaring if the jostling of the bed woke him up. They’d planned to pull an all-nighter playing video games because it was getting closer to the end of their semester break and the second half of their senior year was supposed to be hell, so they wouldn’t have time to anymore and Stiles had just gone and betrayed him by falling asleep at 7.

“You never learn do you Stiles?”

Stiles let out a whistling snore in response.

+++

Stiles would say he got better, and, in all honestly, he did. He only started getting exhausted at about the halfway mark, and he remembered to bring a water bottle to their training sessions. He was still mouthy as fuck though, and annoying as all hell.

They were running around the Preserve again, and Derek had said it’d be their last run before the actual thing a week away; they’d been working up to the actual distance until they got to 45 kilometers today.

“Seriously Derek,” Stiles huffed out between puffs of air, stumbling over the loose stones littering the trail and narrowly avoiding a puddle. “I don’t know why you’re still holding back. I can take it.”

Derek rolled his eyes and refused to speed up, methodically pacing himself to stay next to Stiles.

“Seriously though,” Stiles whined, slowing down even more to get Derek to listen to him. “I don’t understand how you expect me to be better if you don’t push me!” he complained, slowing down to stop, frowning when Derek slid smoothly to a stop next to him.

“Stiles,” Derek started then snapped his mouth shut when Stiles snarked back with a sarcastic,

“Derek.”

They glared at each other for a moment before Derek swallowed harshly, dropping his gaze.

“I’m not weak, okay?” Stiles snapped, crossing his arms defensively, glancing off to the side.

“I never said you were!” Derek said, his tone bordering on angry. “But you’re not a werewolf!”

“Oh, so what? I’m not good enough?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Derek turned to face Stiles, exasperated, his jaw clenching when Stiles refused to meet his eyes. “You’re just physically incapable of keeping up with me, it’s a fact. But it’s not a big deal, and it doesn’t make you weak.”

“I don’t want any of you taking it easy on me,” Stiles complained, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just because everyone else is supernaturally gifted doesn’t mean I need any extra consideration.”

“What if that’s just you?” Derek blurted, throwing his hands up in the air.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stiles barked, his eyes blazing and Derek growled at him.

“It _means_ ,” Derek emphasized, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “That you’re the only person who thinks you get extra consideration. Growing up as a wolf, I was taught that protecting humans, protecting _pack_ , should always be my first instinct.  Humans in a pack keep the pack together, Stiles. I ne— _we_ need you, and we won’t have any use for you if you’re passed out from exhaustion trying to drown out some stupid voice in your head telling you that, for some goddamned reason, you aren’t good enough, because _you are_ and you don’t need anyone convincing you otherwise.”

When Derek had finished, they were both frozen in surprise, their breaths coming out in little huffs. Derek's eyes were wide, as if he couldn’t believe the words that had just tumbled out of his mouth but after a moment, his mouth straightened into a thin line, standing by what he said. Stiles’ heart was pounding and he panicked.

He was shocked, and it was the first reaction that he could think of. That’s his story and he’s sticking with it.

He sprinted away without looking where he was going and ended up crashing into a tree.

+++

“I worry about you son,” the Sheriff sighed when Stiles finally came to, his head throbbing. “I really, really do.”

“Ugh, how bad?” Stiles slurred, opening one eye to squint up at the blurry figure he assumed was his dad. The Sheriff looked a mix between fond and exasperated and Stiles took a moment to feel guilty about the stress lines around his forehead he hadn’t noticed before.

“You were actually pretty lucky this time, considering your fantastic track record—“

“Jeez dad, no sarcasm, I’m too weak to deal with it right now,” Stiles groaned, shutting his eyes against the harsh light. He heard his dad chuckle slightly and he rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face despite everything.

“Mild concussion, but you should be fine in time for the run.”

“Oh _god_.”

“Rest up, son,” the Sheriff actually sounded amused, ruffling Stiles hair and ignoring Stiles’ undignified squawk. “I have to head back to work, but they’re letting you go tonight, so I’ll be here to pick you up.”

“Awesome,” Stiles sighed, rolling onto his side to try and catch some more sleep before a thought occurred to him and he sat bolt upright, wincing when his brain practically screamed in protest. “Dad!” he called out and the Sheriff turned to look over his shoulder from where he had just reached the door. “Derek?”

“Oh he had a good laugh,” the Sheriff teased and Stiles’ face settled into an unamused expression. “Let me have my fun Stiles,” the Sheriff rolled his eyes before continuing, “He brought you over and said he’d see you the day of the run.”

“Fantastic,” Stiles moaned, covering his face in his hands because his life was the _worst_. He made a face at his dad’s retreating back, because his muffled laughter was obvious by the way his shoulders were shaking and Stiles flopped back down onto his pillow, grunting at the way his head pounded.

His life, seriously.

+++

“I’m not prepared,” Stiles said in a terrified whisper, his hands already starting to sweat. “Derek, I’m not going to make it.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

“No, I won’t! I forgot my water bottle,” Stiles was beginning to sound really panicked now and Derek sighed.

“You can have mine okay, besides people’ll keep offering you water as you run past, calm down.”

“Why aren’t any of the others doing this, aren’t they better suited for this kind of torture?”

“They preferred donating without having to run, now shh it’s about to start.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Stiles wailed just as the gun sounded and they took off at a fairly brisk pace. “What if I get hot in the middle of the run?” Stiles started talking again after a few minutes in and Derek let out another one of his patented put-upon sighs. It chilly enough that Stiles had worn a few layers even though he knew he’d be sweating enough to not need anything more than a shirt after a few kilometers.

“Then you take your stupid layers off and the betas will be around, waiting to come and take it off you before you complain about having to carry it,” Derek told him, not even taking his eyes off the track. “Now shut up and conserve energy.”

Stiles’ mouth snapped shut and he bit his lip, counting the number of times he saw a person with a yellow shirt in along the track to pass the time. He got bored when he got to 23 and turned back to Derek, who hadn’t even broken a sweat, casually jogging next to him.

“Hey Der?” he asked.

“What now Stiles?”

“Can’t you run like heaps faster than everyone else here?” he asked, looking around and nearly tripping over his own feet, stumbling for a few steps until Derek steadied him with a warm hand on his bicep. “I mean,” he coughed and took a grateful gulp from the bottle Derek was holding. “I don’t get why you were training with me when you can clearly outrun all these people here.”

Derek's mouth thinned and he looked like he was seriously regretting the path his life had taken before he took the bottle back from Stiles and shook his head.

“Shut up and run,” he growled.

+++

“Oh my god Stiles, we are seriously only like a kilometer away, can you not keep running? You are physically going slower than a five year-old,” Derek sighed, slowing down to a walk as Stiles struggled to keep his feet moving.

“I am actually dying,” Stiles wheezed, his face red and his tank top soaked through, while Derek looked as fresh as a daisy (with the bonus addition of a sheen of sweat over his skin, but on him it looked sexy while on Stiles, it made him look kind of like a drowned rat). He’d shed his layers halfway through and the betas had dumped a liter of water on him to cool him down when he’d been complaining about the heat, and his hair was sticking to his forehead. “I’ll finish this eventually,” he continued in between puffs of air. “Let me just, lie down and rest for a while.”

“You don’t need to rest Stiles,” Derek pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. “Come on, we are literally _minutes_ away.”

“Nope,” Stiles said, a note of finality in his voice as he draped himself over Derek's sweaty back when he finally stopped in the middle of the track. “I’m done. I had a concussion, I can’t do it.”

“You had a _mild_ concussion, a week ago,” Derek said dryly, pulling Stiles off him and shaking him. “I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

“Nope,” Stiles repeated, sliding down to the ground. “Let me just lie down here, and possibly die. You can run away and finish it for me, I’ll just be here… staring at your ass, because holy Jesus of curly fries, you have an amazing ass. And I’d be embarrassed about that but right now I’m too exhausted to care.”

A small smile spread across Derek's face and the tips of his ears burnt red, a fact Stiles filed away to pick apart later when he got his strength and mental capacity back, as he pulled on Stiles’ hand.

“Come on, idiot,” Derek said gently and Stiles pouted before letting Derek drag him away and across the finish line, where everyone was waiting.

“I’m so proud of you son,” the Sheriff said loyally, ignoring the fact that Derek had pretty much carried Stiles the last couple of meters. Scott beamed at the two of them before patting Stiles gingerly on the shoulder, wrinkling his nose at the stench of their combined sweat, which, _rude_. You’d think after knowing each other since they played doctor as kids would cancel out any weirdness or disgust, but no, clearly that wasn’t the case.

“Stiles, you ace,” Scott said gleefully, putting his hand out for a high-five. “Danny betted that you wouldn’t make it under two and a half hours but you came through for me, like I knew you would.”

“Technically he didn’t, because Derek was essentially carrying him over the last kilometer or so,” Danny retorted bitterly, reaching into his pocket to pull out a twenty and handed it to Scott.

“Meet you at the diner in a few hours then, Stiles,” Scott told him, grinning even wider than before, and Stiles didn’t want to think how that was possible. “I’ll buy you food after picking Allison up,” he said and then at Derek's raised eyebrow, added, “And I’ll buy you food too, Derek, of course. Because you are clearly a champ.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes at them and reached out to hug Stiles.

“I have to head back to work, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, you got a double shift?” Stiles asked, frowning and the Sheriff shrugged.

“A few of my deputies did the run as well, I’m taking their place. I’ve got the day off tomorrow,” he said, looking down at his watch. “You guys want to do a barbeque?”

Satisfied at the affirmative nods he got from the pack, he nodded at Derek before walking back to the direction of the station, pulling his radio, which had begun to crackle with voices.

“I’ve got to grab my car, you’re good to go then?” Danny asked, nudging Isaac with his shoulder.

Isaac and Danny were a new thing, their relationship the brainchild of a lot of devious plotting by Lydia and awful attempts at flirting from Stiles. Isaac had wolfed out when Stiles had placed his hand on Danny’s thigh (an accident, he had sworn later) and nearly took Stiles’ eye out because turns out wolves were really possessive (surprise, surprise) when it came to their mates.

“I’ll see you guys later, I’ll take Stiles over,” Derek offered and Stiles nodded fervently, mumbling “shower, shower, shower” under his breath.

Once everyone had disappeared, Stiles looked up at Derek, who was watching him quietly.

“Take me home please?” Stiles asked, his wide brown eyes meeting Derek's in an earnest gaze.

Derek coughed. “Yeah, sure.”

When they got into the Camaro, they sat there for a moment in a slightly awkward silence and Stiles’ gaze darted around the interior of a car, unwilling to settle anywhere.

“So, uh,” he winced as his voice came out too loud. “Where’s all my stuff?”

“Scott,” Derek offered before the car went silent again.

Stiles shook his muscles out before turning to Derek and crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay, what the hell is going on?”

Derek startled. “What? Nothing.”

Stiles’ cocked his head to the side and his eyes narrowed. “Lie.”

“You’re not a werewolf.”

“I’m aware.”

“You can’t tell that was a lie.”

“Yeah, I can,” Stiles said, raising his eyebrows. “You have about a million tells dude; your lips do this little twitch at the corners, and your nose kind of flares? But the most obvious one is when your hands kind of curl a bit like you want to wolf out and get your claws out.” At this, Derek dropped his gaze, staring at his hands that had unknowingly tightened on the steering wheel and Stiles swallowed a little awkwardly, rubbing his hands together. “What?”

“Laura used to tell me that, back when we were kids, that I had tells and I ought to learn how to get rid of them otherwise I would never get away with anything,” Stiles went silent and Derek let out a huff of laughter. “You’re the first person who’s noticed enough to tell me that.”

“I notice everything about you,” Stiles said quietly and swallowed. “What’s happening here?” he asked and Derek's mouth quirked upwards.

“I carriedyou past the finish line in a marathon that I didn’t even want to join in the first place, just so I could voluntarily, by the way, spend time with you, what do you think is happening here?”

Stiles’ face split into a grin and he shot forward to press his mouth to Derek's, missing his mark by about a mile and jamming his nose into Derek's cheekbone.

“Ow,” he wailed, pulling back and clutching his face, his eyes watering from the force. “I just realized why I’ve never been in a relationship before,” he muttered sulkily, settling back in his seat and squeezing his eyes shut. “S’cause I’m lame and do stupid things like that.”

“I don’t mind,” Derek’s voice sounded softer, gentler somehow and when Stiles opened his eyes, Derek was a lot closer, and his breath caught in his throat. “I think it’s cute.”

“That’s really corny,” Stiles whispered, swallowing nervously when the corner of Derek's mouth curled up and he inched closer, so they were practically brushing their mouths against one another.

“You like it though,” Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles licked his lips, blushing when he noticed Derek's eyes tracking the movement. Derek's mouth was _so close_ and if Stiles just leant forward a little, Derek would be—

Derek was kissing him.

He was kissing Derek?

No, he was lying; Derek was kissing him because he was too busy having a conversation with himself about who was kissing who to actually participate in the aforementioned making out. And that was something he had to fix, like, right now.

But he didn’t really know what to do? Gingerly sliding his hands into the silky-soft strands of Derek's hair, Stiles… Didn’t do anything.

Derek pulled away with a sigh. “Are you seriously overthinking this?”

Stiles’ eyes widened and he flushed. “I—maybe.”

“Just,” Derek rolled his eyes. “Do whatever feels good.”

“I don’t wanna be bad at it,” Stiles mumbled and if Derek hadn’t been a werewolf, he wouldn’t have even heard that.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad at kissing,” Derek said and Stiles stared at him incredulously. There was an awkward pause and Derek raised his hands, chuckling. “Sorry, I was just trying to make you feel better.”

He settled back into the driver seat and Stiles pouted, because he deserved _all of the kisses_. Derek snorted.

“C’mere,” he offered, shifting the seat backwards, and hell yes, Stiles was going to get all up in that, sweat be damned.

“We’re going to get arrested for parking and it will be _awesome_ ,” Stiles singsonged happily and clambered over to kiss the hell out of Derek.

Derek had only just begun to teach him the beautiful art of Frenching when they heard an ominous knock on the driver-side window, which had started fogging up like they were in a Victorian-era porno. And, oh god, that looked like his father staring out at them.

Stiles pulled away, his expression of horror mirrored on Derek's face.

“What are we going to do?” he whispered-screamed and Derek shrugged casually, though his indifference was undermined by the way he had gone a bit pale. He shifting a little in his chair, his hard-on bumping against Stiles and oh my _god_ , he just gave Derek an erection.

If his dad hadn’t been standing just outside the door with his hand on his gun, Stiles would seriously be fist-pumping the air right now.

“I’m sorry for jinxing us by saying we were going to get arrested for parking dude,” Stiles said quickly, smoothing down his clothes. “But I’m pretty sure my dad likes you, so he probably won’t shoot you. And also, if he did, he hasn’t got any wolfsbane bullets, so you’ll be fine,” he shrugged at Derek's incredulous stare and added with a wink, “That was awesome though.”

He grinned at Derek's eye-roll and leant forward to peck him on the mouth one more time before opening the door with a pained,

“Father dearest, you’re back.”

The Sheriff looked unamused, though Stiles knew from experience that the crinkles around his eyes meant he was struggling not to smile.

“Do you want to get arrested?”

“Uh, we were just—“

“Shut up and don’t say anything Stiles,” Derek cut him off before he could finish, stepping smoothly out of the car and nodding at the Sheriff. “Sir,” he said, meeting the Sheriff’s eyes with a polite gaze.

“Derek,” the Sheriff’s voice was amused now. “Getting well-acquainted with my son, were you?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said, before his calm mask slipped and his eyes widened in panic as he realized what he had just admitted to. “I mean, no, sir.” The Sheriff raised an eyebrow and Derek looked to Stiles helplessly.

“He was helping me recover from the run!” Stiles blurted out, wringing his hands out and the Sheriff crossed his arms over his chest, the beginnings of a smile starting to appear on his face.

“Oh, so he was giving you CPR, is that what that was?”

Derek choked.

“ _Dad_!” Stiles wailed, absolutely mortified. The Sheriff gave in, bursting into loud chuckles, shaking his head at the look on Derek's face.

“I’m just kidding Stiles, jeez,” he said, rolling his eyes at Stiles’ pout. “I just came back to check if you guys won me a bet.”

“You bet on us?” Stiles asked, offended. The Sheriff shrugged.

“Won me a hundred bucks from Melissa,” he said easily and Stiles’ jaw dropped.

“Betrayal!” he called out, absently leaning into Derek's side now that the danger had passed. “I can’t believe she bet against me and Derek,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oh, she didn’t, she just assumed it’d happen a lot quicker than it did. I knew neither of you would man up for a while though, so I was a sure winner on this one,” he informed them and Derek squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and his forefinger. “I’m just saying,” he laughed again.

“Okay, dad, go away,” Stiles said, his cheeks returning to their usual pallor and he tugged on Derek's hand. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

“Not in front of me, Stiles.”

“Dad, that’s not what I meant!” Stiles yelled and even Derek cracked a smile. “Oh, god, leave me alone,” he moaned, though he couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across his face.

“If you hurt him Derek…” the Sheriff trailed off, leveling a serious gaze on Derek and the alpha nodded.

“I won’t,” he promised, and Stiles beamed.

Gotta love them rude leprechauns.

**Author's Note:**

> I do weird things on [tumblr](http://officerstilinskihale.tumblr.com/) sometimes, you should come visit.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I also take random prompts, just by the way, so if you want anything written down, just message me and stuff. Anything over 1500 words gets posted here on AO3 but anything under that is posted as a drabble on my tumblr. See you there!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Run For a Reason (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4835918) by [VeegiDawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeegiDawn/pseuds/VeegiDawn)




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